Chapter Text
You knock lightly against Lady Dimitrescu’s office door and at her low hum, enter. The office is warmly decorated with rich mahogany bookshelves and tables, richly upholstered seating, and deep crimson curtains blocking the light from the windows. The Lady’s desk sat across from the door, wooden and painted white and gold to match the castle’s baroque color scheme. The towering woman sat with her back to you, slightly hunched over her day’s work.
You set the tea tray on a table behind her and poured a cup. At this time of day Lady Dimitrescu preferred a rooibos blend, enough to calm her nerves after a long day but not enough to keep her up at night. In your first week it disturbed you, because you knew what rooibos looked like. What the Lady drank was far too thick to simply be tea. Though you knew all too well the inclinations of the Lady and her daughters, it took some adjustment on your part.
As the liquid stilled in the cup, you gently wafted your hand over it before straightening up, hands clutched behind your back. “Your tea, my Lady,” you said softly, knowing that the Lady hated to be startled by sudden noise.
The Countess lifted her head from her work and brought a hand up to massaged the side of her neck. She seemed stiff, twisting her torso gently to crack her back and pressing on her shoulders as if she could dispel the knots there. A deep sigh came from the woman.
“Bring it here, dear,” your lady said, clearly frustrated.
You paused. She had never asked you to approach her. If she spoke to you at all it was to dismiss you.
“Do not dawdle.”
At her prompting, which you knew was the last warning you’d get, you picked up her cup and saucer and brought it to her side. You set it down at her side, careful not to get too close to her documents. As you did, you took the chance to cast your gaze to the side and take her in. She wore her usual dress, off-white and gathered to cinch below her breasts. Black gloves covered her hands, and her usual hat had been discarded on the chaise lounge in the office. Her dark hair was pinned and curled, accentuating her ornate earrings and marble pillar of a neck. Crow’s feet wrinkled the edges of her eyes, signaling her age and experience.
Lady Dimitrescu was startlingly beautiful, despite her appetites. You noticed, though, as you looked at her that her face was pinched in pain, one shoulder hunched slightly higher than the other. You hadn’t registered it before, but her desk seemed much too short for her stature. Certainly not the appropriate size for a human woman, but absolutely too short for the nine foot tall vampiress. A pang of sympathy brought you to step in closer.
“Thank you,” she said in a rare display of appreciation. She sounded tired, more so than when her daughters had scared yet another maid into panic.
You weren’t sure what possessed you, but you spoke. You knew it was out of turn, and that she would no doubt punish you for it. But, regardless, you spoke.
“My Lady, if I may...I can see you are in considerable pain, and your desk seems to be ill-suited to your height. A custom-made desk may serve your body better.”
You withdrew from her side immediately, sensing that you’d made a mistake. Any second you’d meet the sharp end of her talons. And the touch did come, but now how you expected. A large hand grasped your forearm and stilled your retreat. You looked up to see Lady Dimitrescu holding your arm, not yet turned toward you.
“You presume to know what my body needs--agh!” Lady Dimitrescu twisted her neck to sneer down at you but was caught mid sentence as her neck seemed to spasm in pain. She released her grasp on you to hold her neck. A faint growl rumbled in her chest.
You did not dare to speak, though you can’t help the small smirk that tugs on your lips.
“What do you know of desks?”
“My mother was a carpenter in the village. Before I came here I was studying to be her apprentice. I could...with the proper materials I could aid you.”
“Interesting.” She seemed to consider the information for a long moment before making up her mind. “You will take a break from your duties and take up this new project. Any materials you need, I shall arrange for them to be brought to you. The old smithy in the stable should be adaptable.”
You were stunned. A moment ago you assumed your time on Earth was over. Now you were being offered a new job? Temporary, but a change from the schedule you’d become quite bored with.
“Is this acceptable to you?” she asked, her impatience bringing steel back to her voice.
“Of course, my Lady, I would be honored,” you answered quickly, giving a bow.
Lady Dimitrescu turned in her chair, careful not to move her neck too much. Her eyes flicked up and down your body, and you felt a blush dust your cheeks.
“And what are you wearing? That is not the uniform I distribute to my maids,” she growled, taking a closer look at the dark dress pants, white button-up shirt, fitted jacket, and knotted tie.
You winced at the word. “I...My apologies, my Lady. I requested a change of dress, to the butler’s. I spoke to Lady Bela about it a few weeks ago. I believed she would inform you, but I should have asked you myself.”
“Indeed, you should have. But you do look...rather dashing,” she said, her red lips quirking into a smirk.
Your blush deepend at the compliment. The Lady had never taken notice of you, not the way she did some of the maids. Servants talked. You knew your Lady’s reputation. A pretty young maid would spend a few weeks in Lady Dimitrescu’s quarters, sending different kinds of screams through the castle. And when she was done with them, they would either return to work--exhausted and bruised from their exertions--or simply disappear altogether. You knew it was best to avoid the Lady’s eye. Chances of survival went up exponentially if you could simply fade into the woodwork. The last thing you had expected was to attract her eye with your new uniform.
“Would you like to be called something else? I have been alive a very long time. The complexities of gender do not escape or perturb me.” As she spoke, Lady Dimitrescu moved to stand and did so, if not on shaky footing.
“I...prefer to go by Y/N and use they/them pronouns. I appreciate your acceptance, my Lady,” you say softly, taken aback by the larger woman’s understanding.
“It is only the decent thing. I will take note. Now if you would--” Lady Dimitrescu winced in pain “--bring my tea to the lounge. I must lay down.”
Quickly, you ferried her tea to the table beside the lounge. When you turned back, you saw your Lady clutching the back of her chair and holding her lower back. Without prompting, you came to her side and offered your arm to her.
Shocking you both, the Countess snorted at the gesture. “Don’t be foolish. Pull the lounge closer.”
You did as she asked, pushing it up to Lady Dimitrescu’s feet so she could maneuver herself to lay down. As she settled in you lifted the side table closer to her, careful not to spill the tea. Lady Dimitrescu rested her neck against the raised portion of the chaise and seemed to melt into the padded chair. She gently took her tea and sipped it.
“You may go. Report here in the morning and we shall review the requirements for the new desk.”
You nodded and slipped from the room. However, before you headed downstairs you stepped to the end of the hall and opened the linen closet. You gathered several pillows and a thick blanket and went back to the office. Without hands to knock, you simply toed the door open and entered, hoping you could get away with acting unprompted twice in the day.
“What are you--What is this?”
You set the linen beside the chaise and fluffed two of the pillows. You gesture to her long legs. “For underneath your knees. It will relieve pressure from your lower back.”
One of Lady Dimitrescu’s angular brows raised, but after a moment she lifted her knees. Her flowing dress slipped up slightly, revealing strong, stocking-covered calves. You tried not to stare as you slid the first pillow under her legs. You knew this would not be enough to have any true effect, but Lady Dimitrescu had already relaxed her legs. You reached out and touched her calf. The woman flinched at the touch.
“You need another, my Lady,” you said, carefully meeting her eye.
Lady Dimitrescu relaxed into your touch at that. Her calf was solid muscle and cool to the touch, even with the stocking on. You wondered if the rest of her leg was so cold, or so strong. Before you could get too distracted, you lifted her leg and slipped another pillow beneath her knees.
“Would you like one for your neck? I also brought a blanket, in case you were cold. But I don’t know if...you…get cold?” As you spoke, you saw no recognition from Lady Dimitrescu. She simply stared, golden eyes blazing on you. Her expression was completely unreadable to you, so you decided to quit while you were ahead. “I’ll just place it here. I hope you...I hope you feel better, my Lady.”
A blush tore across your face as you turned and nearly dashed from the room. Shutting the door behind you with a gentle click, you collapsed against it. What had just happened? Did the Lady truly think you looked dashing? Why did you care if she felt better?
Lady Dimitrescu was your employer--a towering, blood-thirsty one at that. It was unlike you to stick out your neck like this...but it seemed to have paid off. You couldn’t deny how excited you were to make your Lady a new desk. It had been years since you’d crafted something, and this was an opportunity to really prove yourself to the imposing woman.
A smile crept across your lips as you made your way back to the servant’s quarters, and without anything else to do until dinnertime, you gathered pen and paper from your bunk and began sketching out ideas for the desk.